


But, Probably

by ShipThePuppy



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst?, M/M, Magical Weirdness, Other World AU, Probably one of those, experimental writing style, hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5223065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipThePuppy/pseuds/ShipThePuppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furihata Kouki was prepared for it to be a perfectly normal day, and then a man literally appeared in front of him. </p><p>Or: Kouki meets the strangest stranger, Fukuda gives life advice, and sometimes an ending is also a beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But, Probably

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say on this one, other than enjoy! This one was also an experimental attempt at different kind of writing style, and I'm mostly pleased with the results.

Kouki doesn’t know what to make of the man who stands in front of him. Messy hair—such a bright, vivid red—tops a porcelain face that isboth beautiful and handsome, with such large different colored red and goldeyes framed by masculine features. The man is glancing around curiously, taking in the view of the swaying tree branches above them with his arms crossed over his chest.

He wears odd clothing, Kouki notices. A long sleeved silk shirt, red as his hair, with a high collar and large, gold disks for buttons. His pants are  black, made of a heavy cloth that hugs his legs enough to be considered well-fitting, but not absurdly tight. On his feet are thick-soled black leather shoes that have no ties, meant for slipping on and off as needed.

But his clothes aren’t the strangest thing about him.

It was the fact that he’d appeared in front of Kouki  _out of thin air_  that is alarming.

Eyes wide and lips pressed flat together, Kouki spins on his heel, prepared to back track and take the long way home—even if it means circumnavigating the park to get back to his apartment, rather than just passing through it as normal. Whatever this strange man is or isn’t, Kouki wants  _nothing to do with it._

“Wait.”

The command is soft, but the authority behind it makes him hesitate. It only lasts for a moment, and then he begins walking quickly.

“I  _believe_ ,” the man is suddenly behind him, resting a strong hand on Kouki’s shoulder, “I asked you to  _wait_.”

Kouki twists away, facing the man and suddenly wary of showing his back to him. “Yes? What is it?” He grips his grocery bag close to his chest (the whole reason he’d gone out in the first place).

The man blinks in the face of Kouki’s caution, lowering his hands and taking a step back. “I apologize. I did not mean to startle you,” he says, polite and sincere. It’s such a change from the authority of his earlier order that Kouki’s frown grows, though his shoulders release a tension he’d previously been unaware of.

“It’s alright.” Kouki bites his lip, and shifts his hold on the bag, brown paper crinkling. “What did you need?” he asks, hesitant.

“I was wondering if you could tell me the name of this country; I’m unfamiliar with my current surroundings.”

“Um.” He takes a step back. “Japan.”

The man cups his chin. “Definitely another world, then.” He looks around them once more, seeming fascinated by the early autumn weather. “Can you direct me to the local mages? They might know more about my situation. My magic feels strange in this world.”

“Sorry, there’s no such thing as mages. I’m just…gonna go.” Kouki steps around him and sprints away as quickly as he can, ignoring the other’s calls behind his back.

*****

What a strange guy, Kouki thinks as he puts his groceries away. Appearing out of thin air, talking about other worlds…

He puts a can of mandarin oranges in the cupboard, and pulls out his phone.

 _‘Do you think magic could be real?’_ He sends the text, and goes back to putting away the last of his purchases, trying not to think of the man he’d left alone, lost in an unfamiliar place. His phone vibrates a minute later with a message from Fukuda.

‘ _That’d be cool, but probably not. Why?’_

Kouki types, ‘ _No reason,’_ and hits send. Guilt churns his stomach. He pulls out a pan to make stir fry for dinner, and sets the cutting board on the counter with the vegetables. He gets halfway through an onion before groaning.

Kouki grabs his jacket and heads to the park. He finds him in the same area he left him, and as the other opens his mouth to speak Kouki cuts him off. “Can you really do magic?”

The man is taken aback. “Yes, I can.”

“Prove it to me.”

The man raises a hand and rubs his fingers together. A small light grows from his fingertips, and small fractals of light begin flaking off to float in the air like flower petals. Kouki watches, mystified, as they swirl around him in the dying sunlight. He reaches out and catches one, cupping it in his palms. It rests on his skin, a small, warm, flickering spot of light, and then goes out.

The man lowers his hand, and slowly all the tiny points of light go out. When they’re all gone, he exhales shortly. He nibbles his lip, and looks to the other. “Do you have anywhere to stay?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m a stranger in this place.”

Kouki considers this. “What’s your name?”

“Akashi Seijuurou, Lord of the Southern Forests.” He bows, his hand crossed over his waist.

“I’m Furihata Kouki, and I’m not lord of anything.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “But you can stay with me, if you like?”

*****

“Your home is strange,” Akashi says as they enter the apartment.

Kouki frowns as he locks the door. “You think so?” He glances around his apartment. It’s standard, with a general living area attached to a half-kitchen, one bedroom and one bath. “It’s pretty normal, actually—ah, please don’t touch that!”

Akashi stands in front of a long, low bookshelf along the wall beside the couch. On top of it is a picture of a woman, with small brown eyes and long brown hair the color of milk tea. A candle rests on either side of the picture frame. He draws his hand back when Kouki shouts.

“What is this?” he asks. “A vigil of some sort?”

“Well,” Kouki slips his shoes off beside Akashi’s, who must have been familiar with the custom in his world to have known to do it in Kouki’s, “it’s no shrine, but…it’s how I like to remember her.”

Akashi glances between Kouki and the photo, most likely taking in the resemblance. Kouki knows how much he and his mother look alike. “My apologies,” he murmurs.

“It’s alright,” he says. Kouki passes by him to the half-kitchen, standing behind the waist-high counter that separates it from the living area. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten yet and was gonna make something.”

“I am.” Akashi approaches, and sits at one of the stools lining the counter. “Show me the delicacies of your world.”

Kouki huffs. “I don’t have any delicacies, but I have ice cream for dessert?”

Akashi scrunches his brow. “What is ice cream?”

*****

Akashi, Kouki discovers, really,  _really_  likes ice cream.

He leans against the arm of the couch with his feet tucked under him, a bowl of ice cream cradled in his lap. Akashi sits across from him on the other side of the coffee table on the floor, legs folded to the side. Even casual, his posture is straight and elegant.

“Don’t you have this sort of thing in your world?” Kouki asks as Akashi savors another spoonful.

He nods. “We do, but not of such flavor. What did you call it?”

“Green tea.”

“I like it. The last time I had something similar, it was in the north, in Tetsuya’s lands. It was vanilla flavored. I was eight, and haven’t been back since.” He scraped more from his bowl. “I’d forgotten what it was called.”

“I’ll make sure to get more,” Kouki promises. He stirs his melting ice cream with his spoon. “What’s your world like?”

“You really believe me?” Akashi asks.

“You kind of appeared out of nowhere,” he points out, “and you didn’t know how to use chopsticks at dinner, even though you  _look_  Japanese.” Minus the hair, he thinks, but he’s seen stranger colors. “You did that light thing, too. It’s kind of hard to sustain disbelief with all that.”

Akashi smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

Kouki sets his bowl aside on an empty cushion, and leans forward. “Tell me about your world.”

“My lands are the forest,” he begins. “They’re green and lush. The forest itself is magic. We rarely have reason to leave it other than trade and diplomacy.”

“How did you get here, then?” Kouki slips off the couch to the floor so he can be closer.

Akashi cups his chin thoughtfully, his eyes distant. “I’ve been training to take over my father’s position since I was young, and today was the day of my ascension as Lord of the Southern Forest. The title is always passed in a ceremony that has taken place at our sacred pool for centuries. The waters there are steeped in magic, and it isn’t uncommon for them to react in strange ways during the ceremony.”

He pauses, eyes narrowing. “But there are records of past rulers who enter the waters and then vanish for a period of time. They always return, but they never speak of the place they were taken, or what they have seen. Those few went on to become the greatest leaders our land has known.”

“And that’s what happened to you?” Kouki asks.

“I took my first step into the waters, and it was as though I were falling. And then I saw  _you_ ,” Akashi shifts his gaze to Kouki, “and the world felt— _strange_. I didn’t understand why at first, but I think this world has no inherent magic, that I can sense. It’s unsettling.”

Kouki crosses his arms on the coffee table, and sets his chin on them. “Aren’t you worried how you’ll get back?”

He shakes his head. “No. The past Lords have always returned after a time. If anything, I take it as a sign that I will be a good leader, and see this opportunity as a blessing. So, Furihata-san,” he smiles, cool and handsome, “please teach me of your world during the time I am in it.”

Kouki grins back. “I can do that.” He stands, and stretches his arms over his head. “Let’s push this stuff to the side and get the futon out. I’m sure you’d like a place to sleep.”

*****

Kouki has to go to work the next day, but he promises Akashi that they’ll do something when he gets back. Until then, Akashi can keep himself occupied with the meager collection of novels that line his bookshelf.

He sits in his cubicle, tapping his pen against his desk and staring at the numbers on his screen. He works in the online sales section of a popular clothing company, handling orders from across the country. Usually he can get into a good rhythm to stave off the boredom of the job, but this morning he’s so caught up in his unexpected guest that he’s having trouble.

“Hey, Fukuda?” he calls, careful to keep his voice from getting too loud.

A head of spiked brown hair pops over the left wall of the cubicle. “Yeah?”

“Do you think it’s possible to visit another world?”

“What, like space travel? It might be a thing someday. But if you mean Narnia style? Probably not.”

“You guys talkin’ about weird stuff?” Kawahara pokes his head over the right wall.

Kouki goes to answer, but is interrupted by a stern voice that make all three of them jolt.

“Get back to work,” Midorima Shintarou, section chief, orders.

“Yes, Midorima-san,” they parrot, and the subject gets dropped.

*****

“You’re back,” Akashi says while Kouki takes his shoes off. “I’ve learned how to use your ice box, but the cooking surface is confusing.”

Kouki shakes his head, holding back a chuckle. “I guess that’ll be the first introduction to my world, then.” He claps his hands. “Using the stove.”

*****

They have an easy dinner that night that Akashi helps him prepare. He isn’t a very good cook, that much is obvious, but he’s earnest and willing to learn, and Kouki appreciates that. After, he can’t think of any particular place he wants to show Akashi, so he suggests taking a walk around the city. Akashi agrees, and after fitting him in some of Kouki’s clothes (“We’re a similar size, luckily enough. The pants might be a bit short, though.”) they go.

Akashi asks questions about many things. Why is the road not paved with stones, why do the tall poles have lights on top, what are those metal devices that carry the people at such speed? Kouki does his best to answer them all.

As they walk past a flower shop, Akashi pauses so abruptly Kouki takes two full steps before noticing. “Roses.”

Kouki comes to his side, and stares in the window with him. Akashi’s reflection is fixated on the rose display. “Yeah?”

“Your shops have  _roses_.”

“They’re in just about any flower shop?”

Akashi enters the shop, and Kouki rushes to follow him. He isn’t sure what the big deal is. Roses are overdone, classic romance. The kind that either makes you roll your eyes or sigh with reluctant sweetness.

But Akashi looks at the rose display like they’re something wonderful, caresses the petals like they’ll crumble into dust if he isn’t careful. Kouki’s never seen something handled so gently.

“In my world,” Akashi whispers, “roses are rare. They only grow in the Eastern Gardens. I’ve never seen so many in one place.”

Kouki isn’t sure why he does what he does next, but it probably has something to do with the look of awe on Akashi’s face. He picks up one of the smaller pre-made bouquets and approaches the counter, Akashi calling, “Furihata-san?” after him.

“I’d like this, please,” he says.

The cashier rings them up, and he pays. Cradling them, he turns and comes to stand before Akashi. He offers them. “Here.”

The look on Akashi’s face is reverent as he accepts the gift. “Why would you give me these?”

“Because, you looked like you really wanted some.” Kouki leans back on his heels, flashing his teeth in a small grin. “We’ll do this every day,” he decides. “When I get back from work, we’ll walk around and find something new. On weekends, we’ll go somewhere. I’ll teach you everything I can about this world. How does that sound?”

Akashi smiles, and holds the roses closer. “I’d like that.”

*****

Furihata keeps his promise. He takes Akashi to every corner of the city. He shows him outdoor markets and grocery stores, takes him to the movies and chuckles at the amazement on Akashi’s face. He makes him try the popcorn and slushies, and can’t hold back his snort when Akashi gets his first brain freeze. At some point Akashi stops calling him Furihata-san, and starts using Kouki instead, but he doesn’t correct him.

They visit a tea shop that first weekend, and it becomes one of Akashi’s favorite places. They end up visiting every couple of days after that.

It’s during one of their lazier days after three weeks of site-seeing that Akashi shows Kouki something from his world.

They’re sitting on the couch, side by side. Akashi searches through the inner pockets on the shirt he wore when Kouki first met him. “You’ve shown me  _CDs_ ,” he says it carefully, the word strange coming from his lips. “Now I want to show you how  _we_  store music.”

He pulls a bottle from one of the pockets, and sets the shirt aside. It’s a small thing, maybe four inches tall, and colored dark blue. The neck is molded with spiral ridges along its length, and the body is fuller at the top. It’s stoppered with a light brown cork.

“No way,” Kouki denies. “You do  _not_  store music in bottles. That’s impossible.”

Akashi raises a brow. “Is it?” He pulls out the cork.

And there’s music. A sweet, lilting melody pours forth, a woman’s soft voice tickling at his ears. It’s a beautiful sound, gentle and warm, and Kouki is enraptured the moment he hears it.

“What is that?” he whispers, the music keeping him from raising his voice.

“A lullaby,” Akashi answers, running his thumb along the bottle neck, words just as soft. “My mother’s.” He raises his eyes to Kouki’s. “This is how  _I_ like to remember.”

They listen to the song in silence, but the new thumping in Kouki’s heart remains long after the music is over.

*****

“Do you think it’s possible to put music in a bottle?”

Fukuda leans back in the booth. It’s one of the rare nights that Kouki couldn’t get out of drinking with he and Kawahara, his guilt from not spending time with them recently urging him to accept their offer. Of the three, only Kouki is still on his first drink.

“On some level, maybe, but if you mean like, an orchestra or something, probably not.”

“You guys talkin’ about weird stuff again?” Kawahara mumbles, his cheek pressed to the table.

“Furi’s the one askin’ all the weird questions lately,” Fukuda says. He points at Kouki. “Why you keep askin’ weird stuff, Furi?”

Kouki shrugs. “No reason.”

Fukuda narrows his eyes, but Kawahara cuts in. “You know, I saw section chief Midorima yesterday. He was havin’ lunch with a bunch a’ big wig section chiefs from other parts of the company.”

“The guy’s got connections.” Fukuda takes a sip. “I heard he went to school with ‘em.”

The two continue their gossip while Kouki listens, swirling his glass.

*****

He gets home that night and finds Akashi waiting up for him. He’s sober, having only nursed the one drink the entire time.

“Akashi?” He sets his bag down and slips his shoes off at the entrance. “Is something wrong?”

He shakes his head, a thin book open in his lap. “I found something.”

Kouki sits next to him on the couch. “My yearbook?”

“I know these people,” he says. He points them out one by one. “Kagami Taiga, Kiyoshi Teppei, Kuroko Tetsuya—in my world, Tetsuya is Lord of the Northern Mountains, and Taiga is his most faithful bodyguard, soon to be husband. Teppei is one of my father’s— _my_  advisors.”

“But how can that be?” Kouki takes the yearbook, and stares at the faces like he’s never seen them before. “I went to school with them.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Akashi begins, “and I believe that rather than this simply being another world, as I’d assumed, that this might actually be a parallel or alternate world to my own.”

“So wouldn’t that mean that…somewhere in this world,” Kouki turns from the pages, “there’s another you running around?”

“And in mine, there’s another  _you_.”

Kouki’s stomach twists, unsure how to feel about the idea of another him existing somewhere that he’s never known about. “What do we do?”

“What can we?” Akashi takes the yearbook from his hands, and sets it aside. “We have to continue as we have.”

Akashi takes his hand, and Kouki doesn’t pull away.

*****

The next time they go out, Kouki makes him wear a jacket. “It’s warm for early October,” he says, “but it’ll be getting cold enough for snow soon enough.”

“Snow?”

Kouki pauses in zipping up his own jacket. “You can’t tell me you don’t know what snow is?”

Akashi appears indignant. “I do, but I’ve never seen it. It doesn’t snow in the Southern Forests, and I was never in Tetsuya’s lands at the right time to see it.”

Kouki holds open the door, and after locking it behind them, takes Akashi’s hand. “I’ll show you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Akashi squeezes his palm, and tangles their fingers. Heat rushes to Kouki’s cheeks. “You do such wonderful things for me, Kouki.”

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

They set out to the tea shop, and neither lets go.

*****

Kouki gets on his laptop in his room and checks the weather every day like a man obsessed. After a few days it becomes apparent that at no point is the area where he lives going to get snow, but there’s a chance of it up north in the coming weekend.

He whoops in success, and makes reservations online with a resort in the area. He splurges on a better room, with its own section of porch and a private outdoor bath, but knows it’ll be worth it to be able to view the snow alone with him. He orders a rental car as well, because he’d like Akashi to experience riding in a car at least once.

Kouki shut his laptop and climbs off his bed, heading for the main room to tell Akashi of their plans. He pauses by the door, which he’d left cracked without realizing, as he hears Akashi’s voice in the next room.

“You raised your son well.” It isn’t hard to figure out that he’s talking to the picture of Kouki’s mother. “He’s been very kind to me during my stay. You should be proud. I’m glad to have known him.” Akashi pauses. “I’m going to be leaving soon.”

Kouki’s stomach drops to his feet, and his heart plummets with it.

“I don’t know exactly when,” Akashi continues, “but I can  _feel_ that it’s soon. I’m going to miss him very much. He’s shown me so many things. I lo–,” he stops, “I…care for him. It will be difficult to leave.”

It grows quiet after that. Kouki forces a smile and ignores the hammering in his chest to open the door. “Akashi, good news! I’m taking you to see the snow!”

Akashi turns away from the picture, a smile growing on his face. “Truly?”

“We leave tomorrow morning,” he says. “So let’s pack our things and get ready.”

Akashi chuckles. “I look forward to it.”

*****

The drive to the resort is spent listening to CDs and the radio. They never stay on one or the other for very long, as Akashi fiddles with the dials, testing out all the buttons he can. He’s particularly interested in rolling the windows up and down for a while, but he moves on eventually.

“What amazing things this world has,” he comments, and Kouki agrees.

They check in that afternoon and have lunch at the resort, then spend a good time touring the area. They return for dinner, and get in the private outdoor bath together. It’s a little embarrassing to have it reconfirmed how handsome Akashi is, and he’s thankful for the coolness in the air to control his blush.

They sit in the baths for a while, pointing out the stars that are easier to see away from the city and its lights.

“Is it anything like the one in your world?” Kouki asks.

“Yes,” Akashi says with a note of longing, “but not exactly.”

After the bath they change into yukata provided by the resort, and sit on the edge of the private porch outside their room. Akashi wears the simple fabric like it was made for him, his shoulders strong and pronounced by the cut. He looks dignified. He looks like a leader.  He looks…like he belongs somewhere else.

“It should snow anytime,” Kouki says, and hopes his smile isn’t too tight.

Akashi turns his chin up. “I can’t wait.”

Akashi watches the sky and Kouki watches Akashi, and it’s suddenly all he can do to hold back the trembling in his hands.

“You know, there’s lots of stuff in this world,” Kouki says. “Like roller coasters, and festivals, and cotton candy, and the view from Mount Fuji.” Akashi looks at him. “There’s many things that you haven’t seen yet, that I still need to  _show_  you. So…so… _Seijuurou_.” He chokes.  _Don’t go._

Akashi leans forward, and rests his forehead against Kouki’s.

Snow begins to fall. They both turn to watch it together in silence, their fingers entwined between them. Later, Akashi will say it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

*****

They return home from the trip on Sunday evening, and order pizza for dinner. Akashi gets sauce all over his fingers, but makes Kouki laugh, and he rolls his eyes. Akashi helps him clean up, and as they set up the futon Kouki starts voicing his thoughts.

“Next time we’ll go to the aquarium. There’s probably some fish in this world that don’t exist in yours. Maybe we should go to the zoo, too? I think you’d like the lions.”

“It sounds fun,” Akashi murmurs, smirking.

Kouki blushes, and shifts on his feet. He clenches his  his hands over his hips, and makes for his room. “Well, goodnight, Akashi. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Kouki.”

He halts, and when he turns around, Akashi is standing close to him. He cups Kouki’s cheek, and wraps an arm around his waist. It’s the closest they’ve ever been.

And then Akashi kisses him. He’s slow and patient, and Kouki doesn’t want to imagine what it’ll be like to stop. He’s wanted it too much.

But of course, it does. Akashi pulls back, and the way he looks at Kouki makes him think of roses. He releases him.

“Goodnight, Kouki. Sleep well.”

His face burns. “You, too.”

He rushes to bed with Akashi’s eyes on his back.

*****

The next morning, Akashi is gone.

*****

The futon is put away. Kouki’s clothes are folded, sitting on the coffee table, the only thing out of place. (The only thing to show he’d ever been there.)

Kouki stands in the middle of the room, which feels more empty without him in it, and takes a deep breath. He has to get ready for work.

*****

“Furi, are you okay?”

Kouki types at his desk, his eyes never straying from his computer screen. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You haven’t been yourself these past few days.”

“Fukuda, shouldn’t you be working?” he says, a tad bitterly.

“Midorima-san’s out having lunch with his other section chief friends, I’m safe.” He can feel Fukuda’s gaze on the side of his head. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Kouki sighs, his fingers coming to a slow stop on the keyboard. He stares blankly at the monitor. “Fukuda?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Another weird question?”

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone in a month?”

Fukuda’s quiet. “It’s unlikely...but, probably, yeah. You sure there isn’t something you wanna talk about?”

“I’m sure.” Kouki looks up at him, his smile close-lipped and sincere. “But thanks.”

*****

For three days, he’s been going about his life as normal, and it feels  _wrong_. It shouldn’t be so easy to pretend Akashi was never there. It shouldn’t be easy to discard the habits Akashi leaves him with.

And then he’s looking in the window of the flower shop they first went to as he walks home, and realizes it really, really isn’t.

The tears don’t come all at once. They come gently, like the way Akashi touched rose petals. Then they come softly, like the way Akashi kissed him. Then they come all at once, like the way Akashi left him.

He’s a crying mess on the side of the street, trying to hide his face in his hands. How could he have believed for an instant that he can move on just like that? How can he even try to go back to his hold life, from before something amazing had literally appeared before him? How can he, when he didn’t even get to say goodbye?

Kouki sobs, knowing that he’s being given strange looks by others on the street, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

He knows that voice. Kouki lifts his face, eyes wide with hope, and the man standing before him is Akashi Seijuurou, but isn’t. Akashi had never worn a suit, or carried a briefcase.

“Are you injured? Do you require assistance?” The other Akashi steps closer, digging in his pocket and pulling out a cell phone. “I can call an ambulance if you like.”

“No, no.” Kouki wipes his face. “I’m fine. Sorry, I just. I lost someone important to me recently, and I…”

Akashi’s face softens in understanding. “I see. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s okay.” He sniffs, and looks the other in the eyes. They’re different. They don’t look at him the same way. But they’re familiar, too. “My name’s Furihata Kouki.”

“Akashi Seijuurou,” he introduces. Akashi frowns. “Have we met before?”

Kouki shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.”

“Strange,” Akashi says quietly. “I feel like I should know you.”

He’s so different, and yet so similar. He looks exactly like his Akashi, and yet Kouki knows he definitely isn’t, and never will be. Yet, Akashi is Akashi, and he finds himself thinking that maybe he should take a risk. He’d never be  _that_  Akashi, but who’s to say that there isn’t a chance Kouki couldn’t love this Akashi as well?

“Well, Akashi,” he says, and perhaps he does it in a strange way, because Akashi looks at him oddly, “would you like to get tea with me?”

Akashi considers the offer, and then nods. “I’d like that.”


End file.
